Toast
by zoreo09
Summary: Hermione and Ron share a moment after the battle at Hogwarts. Post DH. Contains DH spoilers. One shot.


**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter nor any of these characters.

When Ron closed his eyes he could still see the flash of green light that had hit his brother and then Fred's crumpled body on the cold stone floor.

It had been nearly two weeks since the event and the effects still left Ron shaken. Somehow, he just could not get over the fact that Fred was dead. Of course he had seen it with his own eyes, even held Fred's cool marble hand for a moment at the funeral, but he was reluctant to see that his family had been altered forever. It was simply wrong, all wrong.

Fred completely occupied his thoughts almost all the time now. Ordinarily, had the circumstances been different, Ron would have been celebrating, reveling in the wake of Voldemort's death with the rest of the wizarding world. Perhaps he even would have done something more about _her_.

It was maybe untrue that Fred was the only the Ron thought about now. Hermione was maybe, just maybe the exception. Had things changed between them? He still remembered how she had run at him and kissed him. He hadn't wanted to stop. He felt elated before the battle of their lives had begun. It was silly, really. There they had been, all facing death, and Ron felt joyous. He knew why too.

There could no longer be any question of his feelings for Hermione. He had been confused their fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, that confusion slowly giving way to a very reluctant realization in their sixth year.

And then there had been doubts, so many doubts. Was Ron worthy of Hermione? Was he even capable of being loved? He had surely been a dense git, but could she look past that? Apparently yes. She had kissed him after all.

"Ron?"

He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts as she called his name.

"How did you know I would be up here?" he asked. He had been sitting on one of the steps of the Astronomy Tower for some time now. She did not join him, but rather seemed to be talking to his back.

"I just had a feeling," she said. "I've brought you some toast."

"I'm not hungry," he quickly responded.

"Never in my whole life would I imagine hearing you say that," she laughed as she finally took a seat next to him. "I've carried it all the way up here. You might do me the favor of actually eating it. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning though, have you?"

"I know," he said, avoiding her gaze. "I just haven't felt like eating."

She let out a sigh and set the plate down between them. She said nothing and the silence, frankly, frightened Ron. He snuck a glance at her and saw that she was looking straight ahead.

He appreciated that she hadn't been nervously checking on him every minute. She had let him do exactly what he had wanted, remaining separate. However, he felt that her presence had been constant. She had stayed up with him the night after Fred's death even though she was surely exhausted and held his hand at the funeral. They had never spoken of what had happened. She was always there, yet she never imposed herself on him. It was more of a comfort than an annoyance.

It was most likely due to her that he hadn't broken down. He had always known that she was sensitive and sometimes emotional, but he had never seen her so even-keeled and calm. That was the role he usually filled, but now the roles had been reversed in a way. She knew his weaknesses and compensated for them.

"When are you leaving?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Wednesday."

"I'm coming with you," he said. He felt sure that this was the right thing to do. It wasn't because he had to, but because he wanted to. The thought of Hermione travelling to a far-off country by herself without him was unimaginable.

"Thank you for offering, but I can do it. I did it all by myself before we left."

"I wasn't offering," Ron said. "It was more of a declaration."

"Ron, don't you think it's better that you stay here with your family? They are all returning to the Burrow soon and I'm sure your parents will need help," she said. "Anyway, I'm flying to Australia on an airplane. I'm using the muggle way of travel and I'm sure you don't want to do that."

"I don't really mind," he said. "In fact, my dad would probably get a kick out of it. I'll tell him all about it when we get back."

"But your family, Ron," she started.

"They will be fine. What about you though? Suppose the plang-thingy crashes or something!"

Hermione giggled. "Ron, plane crashes are really rare and it's not like you could protect me from a plane crash."

"But at least I'd be with you. I wouldn't have to worry," he said. "I know you're a great witch, Hermione. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. There. I said it. Now can I go with you?"

"If you insist," she said, eyeing him wearily.

The silence fell between them again and Ron stared at his hands. He was really going with her. A wave of relief passed over him.

"I suppose I've got some packing to do," he said as he stood up and began to descend the stairs.

"Are you going to be all right?" she asked, also standing up.

He turned and looked back at her. For once since that day, she had tears in her eyes. For once he felt better, though not well enough to let her see his emotions yet. Someday in the future he felt sure he could open up. For now, he put on a smile and picked up a piece of the toast she had brought and ate it.

"Yes, we're going to be just fine," he said. He believed it too.


End file.
